


I don’t exist without you!

by alikatastic



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Blood, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Fix-It, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, Protective Ian Gallagher, Shameless AU, Smut, badass ian, do over fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:20:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alikatastic/pseuds/alikatastic
Summary: Let's see if we can do it better this time around?Nothing in the world could have prepared Mickey to be seeing seventeen-year-old Ian standing on the stairs of his house again. This was when it changed for all of them. Ian would break his heart, and Sammi would come charging around the corner with a gun. He pulled out his phone, quickly dialing 911."There is some crazy bitch running up and down the road with a gun. She keeps saying I tried to kill her." Ian looked around, confused. "Go inside; Sammi has a gun."
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 5
Kudos: 125





	I don’t exist without you!

Mickey was walking to the EL when he heard the gunshot. He was lying flat on his back staring at the sky. He started coughing as he tasted blood on his tongue. It felt like the world was sitting on his chest. He looked down, seeing the blood soaking his shirt. It felt like his heart was beating out of the gaping hole in his body.

"Shit." He started grabbing at the hole in his chest. "Ian." He tried to call out. He was supposed to be meeting his husband at the bar. It was their first wedding anniversary, and now Mickey regretted buying a new shirt, mostly since it was now ruined. He had hoped that when he died, Ian would be there, that he would see his husband's face one more time. He felt warm as his world went black.

Nothing in the world could have prepared Mickey to be seeing seventeen-year-old Ian standing on the stairs of his house _again_. This was when it changed for all of them. Ian would break his heart, and Sammi would come charging around the corner with a gun. He pulled out his phone, quickly dialing 911.

"There is some crazy bitch running up and down the road with a gun. She keeps saying I tried to kill her." Ian looked around, confused. "Go inside; Sammi has a gun."

They heard Sammi call out for Mickey, and he ran up the steps grabbing Ian and pulling him inside. He slammed the door behind them as he heard the gun go off. He hopped the operator did too. "She's my boyfriend's crazy half-sister. She's going to kill us all." Mickey hung up and looked at Ian.

"Sit your ass down, Gallagher. We got shit to talk about." Mickey pointed to the couch as he heard sirens.

"No, I'm setting you free. You can't love me; you don't even know who I am."

"Yes, I do, you dumb fuck. You are Ian fucking Gallagher. Redhead, bat shit crazy, loves me for whatever fucking reason. War and peace reading, Van Damme loving, pizza bagel eating Ian Gallagher." He shoved Ian towards the couch. "So sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and wait."

When there was a pounding on the door, Mickey huffed and let the cops in. He didn't think he would ever have to rely on the cops here on the south side. "You get that crazy bitch?" Mickey asked.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Ms. Slott is claiming you tried to kill her."

"That's Bullshit. I've been helping out around here since Ian got sick, but if I wanted that bitch dead, she would be dead. She called the MP's on Ian."

Mickey heard Ian huff from behind him. Tony looked at Mickey with what he assumed was supposed to be a serious look. "She is making some serious accusations against you. We would like you to come down to the station to answer some questions."

"Nah, you will not bring me down there so you can arrest me. Bullshit. If you're going to arrest me for something I didn't do, you can do it now." Mickey huffed, looking at Ian. He wanted to do some damage control before leaving Ian alone. He wanted to make sure Ian didn't do anything stupid, like think they were broken up.

Tony smiled. "It doesn't have to be right now. We're going to interview her first. Come down sometime tomorrow so we can close this up and send her to jail."

"Fine, whatever." Mickey turned away from Tony and headed to the kitchen.

Once the door shut, Ian followed him, taking a seat at the table. "How'd you know about Sammi?"

"Saw her on the way over her." He lit a smoke sitting next to Ian. "Now tell me what that was all about. You run off with fucking Monica, then come back and try to break up with me. Make that make any damn sense."

"You can't love me for who I am, Mick. I'm not broken."

"No shit, you're not broken. No one fucking said that and if they did, I'll fucking kill them." Mick took a deep drag watching Ian think over his words. "Look, you want to go off your meds, I'll be here, but it's not going to make you fucking happy or whatever. The meds make you feel sick now? Alright, how did you feel when you were wasting away in my damn bed?"

Ian looked away, unable to handle Mickey's intense stare. "It's not about that."

"Then what's it about fire crotch?" He almost yelled, making Ian flinch. "Just, fucking tell me. I am here. I want this. I want you."

Ian cut his eyes to Mickey quickly. "Do you really? Am I not just a warm mouth or a decent fuck?"

Mickey laughed. "First of all, you are the best fuck. Anyone who told you otherwise is fucking stupid. Second, fuck you for throwing that in my face. I said that to protect you. I said that to push you away for your own good. Look what that did; you got fucking hurt. Pushing people you love away doesn't fucking work. It just makes it harder for them."

"You really want this? You want me? After the drugs and cheating? I stole your fucking baby." Ian yelled, standing up. Mickey was almost proud of the emotion Ian was showing. He knew the drugs made him numb. "I can't fucking feel you, Mick. I am so fucking numb that my love for you is gone. Sometimes I feel it through the cracks, but it's just a fucking moment. How could you put up with that?"

Mickey stood slowly, reaching his hand out to grab Ian's. "It will get better. The numbness goes away. It takes time." Mickey gave him a small smile. "You waited on me. We can wait this out. I'm all in, man." Mickey touched his chest where his tattoo would be if he went to prison. It had become a comfort in the past few years, but it was gone now. "I'll tattoo your name on my chest because, man, what am I supposed to do?" he scratched at his chest. "You're under my skin."

Ian watched him for a moment with tears in his eyes. "Okay." He whispered.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay. I am fucking tired. Can we go to bed?"

"Yeah, let's go, tough guy."

That night Mickey dreamed of bright lights and older Ian. He dreamed of the hospital as they called time of death. He cried at the look of utter devastation on Ian's face. They were supposed to be talking about adopting kids. Their date night was supposed to be them ironing out a plan to grow their fucking family. The weight of it all was heavy on Mickey's chest, making it hard to breathe. When Ian turned over and buried his face in Mickey's neck, it all became more manageable.

The sun was bright when he woke the next morning. Ian was sitting at the end of the bed, looking at the pills in his hands. The picture made Mickey uneasy, but he knew the choice had to be Ian's. He had learned a long time ago that you couldn't force someone to take care of themselves, but he can nudge in the right direction.

"Did you decide if we're flushing them or not?"

Ian looked up, startled. It was the first time someone had given him a choice. "I want to, but I can't. If you're going to stick around, I need to get my shit together."

Mickey didn't think that was the right answer, but he could live with it for now. He could wait until Ian does it for himself. "All right then. "You got Gatoraid?"

Ian shook his head, and Mickey grunted as he got up. "I'll go grab some or some water."

Walking to the police station made Mickey frown. He knew he still ran the risk of going to prison. He was just glad he was able to talk some sense into Ian. He seemed to be handling things a little bit better. The first time around, he didn't think about fighting with Ian about it. He didn't get the chance with Sammi trying to kill him. He hadn't realized that Ian was hurting too.

They both sat across from Tony in the interrogation room. He had a file open and lying in front of them.

"Mickey Milkovich."

"Pretty sure that's my name." Ian grabbed his thigh tightly under the table. He couldn't change who he was, and it was a knee jerk reaction to respond with sarcasm.

"Yes, I know." Tony looked over the file. "Ms. Slott seems to believe you drugged her and put her in a moving crate."

Mickey snarled. "That's fucking stupid. If I wanted to kill her, she'd be in pieces all over Chicago."

Ian sighed as Tony rolled his eyes. "She didn't see who did it, but she claims you threatened her before."

Mickey lifted an eyebrow. "I didn't threaten her. I told her she's lucky Ian didn't want her dead. She turned him into the MP's while he was sick. What kind of family does that? We didn't say shit when she popped a handful of pills every morning."

Tony rubbed his eyes. "Pills?"

"Yeah. Druggie bitch was so hopped up on some shit she tried to sleep with Frank, then she shot him. In the arm, but fucking still." Mickey gave him a wide-eyed look. "You know her dad, Frank."

Tony sat back, looking at them with a small smile, and shaking his head. He closed the file and stood, opening the door. "I think we're done here. Go home, boys."

The next few weeks were spent trying to get Ian into a routine. Mickey had learned from their time in prison that Ian did much better if they kept a pretty set schedule. He also knew Ian would do better if he got a job. He thought about the fact that Ian was working as an EMT when he broke out. Mickey wondered what it would take to open that path for him. He knew that sometime after the last time he visited and the time he got out, he studied hard and got certified and shit. He didn't know how, but he would have to plant a seed in his mind for later after he wasn't so heavily sedated. He looked back at Ian sleeping in the bed. He ran a gentle hand through the red hair. He smiled as Ian leaned into his touch.

"Hey, sleepyhead, it's time for your meds," Ian mumbled something from under the blanket. "Come on, man, we got shit to do today." Ian huffed and pulled back the blanket with a groan.

"Got to find a fucking job." Ian sat up, kissing Mickey on the neck.

Mickey's eyes fell shut with a small moan. "What you thinking about?"

Ian swung his legs off the bed sitting next to Mickey. "Going to get my GED first, though. I'm going to need it if I am going to do anything worthwhile."

"What about an EMT or some shit. I love a man in uniform."

Ian laughed as Mickey handed him his meds and a drink. "I don't know. I don't think I'm smart enough for that."

"Bullshit. What did you say about putting in hours and being able to learn anything."

"We could get our GED's together." Ian blushed as he looked away. "Are you staying here or leaving? Or are we leaving?"

Mickey looked at Ian with a raised eyebrow. "I told you I'm all in. Where do you want to be? It's fucking loud here. I mean screaming kids, a pregnant teen, and all that shit, but it's not all bad here. And the plus side, Terry won't be showing up here without us knowing." In reality, he had come to see it as a home, more so than the Milkovich house.

Ian seemed to see that. "Lip's gone, so we could take the room that was Frank's." 

"We should move before Carl gets home. I don't want to argue with that fuck. He's going to be a pain in the ass thinking he's tough shit."

Ian gave a full laugh and fell back on the bed. "Just like you."

Mickey straddled him. "What was that, army?"

"You heard me." Ian gave him a sultry smile as he gently bucked up.

Mickey rolled down, pressing them together. "Mnnn, like that, Gallagher?"

Ian ran a hand over Mickey's chest with a small smile. "It's been weeks." He whispered.

"Oh, believe me, I know." Mickey gave him a genuine smile as he slid to his knees.

\----------------------SMUT AND SHIT-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He pulled down the blue boxer and watched Ian's cock pop out. He smiled as Ian groaned; he hadn't seen Ian's dick hard in months. He missed it. Mickey didn't want to miss the chance, so he wrapped his lips around the tip and sucked. Ian slipped his hand into the dark hair groaning deep in his throat.

"Fuck, Mick."

He swirled his tongue around the tip, then took more into his mouth. He started a quick rhythm taking more of the cock with each bob. He groaned as he felt blunt nails scratch across his scalp. He ran both hands up Ian's thighs and squeezed hard as it hit the back of his throat.

"God damn!" Ian came down his throat without any warning.

Ian looked up and saw Mickey rubbing his cock through the boxers. When they made eye contact, Mickey came in his pants with a groan.

\----------------------END OFSMUT AND SHIT-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mickey stood at the top of the stairs looking over the family he had grown to love. He saw that Ian and Fiona were at each other's throats again. She had been bitching non-stop about bringing in money and letting Mickey live there. He sighed and stepped into the kitchen, clearing his throat; Fiona jumped away from Ian and scowled at Mickey. He handed her a wad of bills and opened the fridge.

"That should fucking cover whatever you're bitching about." He grabbed the bottle of orange juice with his name on it, chugging it. When it was empty, he pulled out another ten and handed it to Fiona. "We need juice."

Fiona looked back at Ian. "You still need a job. You cant rely on Mickey forever."

"Hey, now skippy. You need to mind your own damn business. You got a husband you just fucking ditched. Didn't even tell him about your new smack addict boyfriend. You even tell him about the baby you're evicting that could be his?" Mick said as he looked at her from the table. "Get your shit together before you worry about ours."

Ian laughed, glancing at Mickey. "Really, Ian, you're going to let him talk to me like that?"

Mickey cut in before he could answer. "What? Can't defend yourself? That why your forcing little red to have an abortion. You have no control of your life, so you have to control everyone else's.

"She is too young to have a baby!" Fiona yelled.

Ian finally cut in. "It's her body! You ever ask her why she wants a baby, or have you just been yelling like always? You're trying to kick Mickey and me out, forcing Debs to have a fucking medical procedure; what's next? You going to tell Carl he can't hang out with his friends? Oh, wait, you already did."

Mickey looked at Ian with wide eyes. He had never heard Ian yell at Fiona. "We're good, man. She's been high strung since she got out of jail."

Ian took a seat next to Mickey, eating banana pancakes. "Maybe I should look into that EMT thing," Ian whispered.

Mickey gave him a small smile as he grabbed his thigh. He was looking forward to making a life with Ian without being a felon, for now anyway. He always knew he was fucked for life. He doubted there was any way he would be able to make it his entire life without going to the big house once. His dad had spent the better part of his adult life in there. Mickey sometimes wondered if he did it on purpose. If he hated his family so much that he would rather be in prison.

They spent the next few weeks studying for the GED test that they both passed with flying colors. Ian started studying for the EMT test. Ian got a job at the grocery store as a bag boy. He hated it, but it brought in money. It made things easier, knowing he could potentially have a job as an EMT in a few weeks.

Mickey had started apprenticing as a mechanic. He thought he should jump on the chance of learning a trade now. He had fucked himself with his time in prison before. Being a felon and a Milkovich made it hard for people to give him a chance. He still thought about his previous life sometimes, but he felt it didn't really matter much. He didn't hate his life before, but now they could do more. They could make a life, get a fresh start. They could save some money, get married, not in some stupid fucking Polka House, then maybe they could adopt a kid or two- assuming Ian still wanted to.

Mickey sighed when Ian came in with a frown on his face. It was the first time in weeks that Ian had seemed so down.

"What's up?" Mickey asked.

"This is bullshit." Ian through the papers he brought home down on the table. "Fucking bullshit."

"Going to give me any more than that?"

"I can't be a fucking EMT because I'm bipolar!" Ian ran his fingers through his curly mess of hair. "All that fucking work, and that's it?"

Mickey snatched up the papers, he read over the questions, and scoffed. "It doesn't say it disqualifies you. Just answer the fucking questions and go down there. Put on that charming Gallagher act and convince them to hire you."

"I don't want to be somewhere I'm not wanted." Ian plopped down on the couch, lighting a smoke.

"You never know if they want you if you don't fucking try. Quit being such a damn pussy and do the fucking work."

Ian punched him in the arm. "Fine."

Ian went down to the station and turned in his application in person. He watched Rita look over it with a smile on her face. He saw her eyes widen when she got to the part about his bipolar.

"Well, Mr.Gallagher. Thank you for your application, but we can't hire you. Due to company policy, we can not hire someone who has been committed."

"It was three days, and it was voluntary. I'm bipolar, but I'm medicated and stable. I know it may seem like a risk, but it's not. I am a hard worker. I have put in a lot of work studying and practicing. I would be a great addition to your team."

"I don't know. It is policy."

"They policy is fucked. I am reliable and a hard worker. Why should I be kept from doing good in the community because I got sick?"

She looked at him then back to his file. "You made a perfect score. The last person to do that was me years ago. I'll have to talk to my superiors; I'll call you when I know something."

Ian stood shaking her hand. "Thank you for the opportunity."

When Ian made it home, Mickey was doing pull-ups in their bedroom door. He watched Mickey with a smile.

"The fuck you are looking at?"

"You," Ian smirked.

Mickey dropped down. "Oh, really, now."

"Of course, and I think I did it. I might have convinced her, Rita down at the EMT station. She said she had to talk to her boss, but she'd call me when she knew."

\----------------------SMUT AND SHIT-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"C'mere." Mickey grabbed his hip, pulling him close. He ran his hand up Ian's neck, grabbing his hair. He slotted their lips together; the kiss was bruising, and more teeth and tongue than anything. The kiss slowed down as Ian bit Mickey's lip and pulled back.

"Let's go to bed." Ian ran his hand down Mickey's chest and gripped his crotch. "I haven't been able to see the amazing ass in months. Are you going to let me have it? Let me eat it up?"

Mickey shivered. "Fuck." He dropped his head to Ian's shoulder. "Get on me, big guy."

Ian shoved Mickey back into their room. He kicked the door shut, not caring about the slam. "Lay down."

Mickey loved the heat in Ian's eyes. He scrambled on the bed, laying g flat on his back. Ian pulled off his shirt and crawled over Mickey. "Too many clothes." It was barely a whisper, but I was rough and when straight to Mickey's dick. "Let's get this off." Ian started pulling off his clothes, rushing. Once Mickey was naked flat on his back, Ian smiled.

He ran the tips of his fingers down Mickey's body, stopping shy of his hefty cock. He gently pried his legs open, dripping between them. He lifted the balls, looking at the tight hole. "Fucking hell, I'm hungry."

Mickey moaned overnight, his eyes with his arm. With the first swipe of Ian's tongue, his entire body clenched. "Hurry the fuck up, Gallagher."

Mickey lifted his knees, letting his legs fall open. Ian grabbed his thighs, holding him open and wide. "Hold these for me."

By the time he was done, Mickey was stretched and wet. Ian smiled as he ran his hand over Mickey's quivering belly. "Ready?"

"Get on me, Gallagher or I'm going to kick you in the fucking face." It was supposed to be a threat, but Ian laughed. Mickey was wrecked.

Ian leaned forward, pressing Mickey's knees to his chest. He slowly pushed in, watching Mickey's face go lax with a small whine that he'd never admit to doing.

\----------------------END OF SMUT AND SHIT------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After they had post-sex smokes and another round in the shower, they then bumbled down the kitchen stairs. Fiona was standing there with an eviction notice in her hands.

Ian snatched it from her hands. "What the fuck?" He handed it to Mickey, who didn't know about this. He knew they must have figured it out because they had the house after they got out of prison.

"It's fucking Patrick. I don't know what he did, but it's him." Fiona snatched the paper back from Ian. "I'll call him. We'll figure this shit out."

Mick grabbed a plate sitting at the table. He just wanted to fucking eat. Ian set about Making their coffee while Fiona called Patrick.

"Surprise! It's me again, Cousin Fiona, hoping you can explain the eviction notice from the sheriff's department because we do pay our rent. So, if you can call us back when you have a minute, That would be swell. Thanks, Patrick."

Lip was reading over the notice, seeing the note said they had 72 gours leave.

"Think you guys can help Fiona deal with Patrick?" Lip asked Ian and Mickey.

Sean plopped down on the stairs lacing up his shoes. "You get ahold of your cousin?"

"No, we're going to get in his face." Fiona huffed with her hands on her hips.

"I can drive." Sean offered.

Mickey rolled his eyes, looking at Ian. He knew that Sean was still using, but he didn't know if it was his place to say anything. He didn't know if Fiona already knew. "You sure you're okay with that? With Parole and all." Mickey asked, hoping he would change his mind.

"Sure." He smiled, making Mickey frown and Ian laugh.

Mickey thought it was kind of stupid to track Patrick down at work. It was a public place, and it didn't give them many options for intimidation. He rolled his eyes as they all followed Fiona over to Patrick.

"Hey, Patrick. Thanks for not calling me back!" Fiona yelled over the grinding sounds.

Patrick looked behind her, noticing Sean, Mickey, and Ian. He recognized Mickey and Ian, but not sean. He smirked, looking at him. "Who's this? Extra muscle since the short one wasn't enough last time?"

"Fuck you!" Mickey yelled, but Ian grabbed his arm, keeping him steady.

"Sean. How are you doing?" Making Patrick laugh.

"I'm curious what you told the sheriff to get us evicted." Fiona cut in.

Patrick feigned innocence that was negated by a small smile. "Oh. That—that's not about you. I took a loan out against the house for 60 grand, didn't pay it back, so, Dorset Bank foreclosed." He shrugged like he wasn't putting the family on the street. It didn't sit with Mickey well that he could do that.

"Well, can't you work something out?" Fiona asked. Both Ian and Mickey looked at her, wondering if she didn't realize what was going on.

"Why?" Patrick tilted his head, making Mickey scowl. "I get 500 hundred bucks in rent, usually late, from cousins who want to frame me as a child molester. Or, I pocket 60 large and call it a day."

Mickey started to rush that dumb fuck, but Ian grabbed him. "What the fuck is wrong with you? They got fucking kids in that house." Mickey yelled.

"Why do I fucking care?" Patrick laughed. "Fuck that con artist family. They tried to kill me. Let them figure that shit out."

"That house may be a shit hole, but it is our home." Ian looked like he was going to cry.

They made their way back home in silence. Mickey hoped he didn't cause this by changing things, by being here. He couldn't see how, but he thought maybe. Sean dropped Ian and Mickey at the house. Mickey walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer. He looked at Ian, who looked nervous. Mickey shook his head, taking a seat at the table.

"We'll figure it out. I could do some jobs and buy put the mortgage."

"That's a lot of money, Mick." Ian plopped down next to him.

"I know, but I think we might be able to do it. With Dad still locked up, I can head over to the house and see what's going on. Work some jobs, then cut and run."

"I don't like that." Mickey scoffed. "You're eighteen now. You'll go to prison if anything goes wrong."

When Fiona and sean came home, they all sat around the table to talk about it. Fiona told them how the house is going up for auction, and they could buy the house. Fiona would take out a loan for 100,000 dollars, and they would bid at the auction.

"The house is a shit hole. No one in their right mind would want this place." Carl said, thinking it would be easy.

"Well, I need 3,500 for the down payment, like now."

Mickey laughed when Carl pulled out the cask, asking if she wanted it in hundreds or small bills. Ian slammed his hands on the table, shaking his head at Fiona. "Why even call a meeting when you make all the decisions anyway?"

He stood heading up the stairs as she yelled back. "And I don't know why you bring Mickey to a family meeting."

They all headed upstairs, leaving Fiona and sean alone. Ian ushered Mickey into their room and slammed the door with unnecessary force. Mickey took a seat on the bed, watching Ian pace back and forth. After a few times, he stopped and stared at Mickey like he was thinking hard about something.

"Why am I even trying? You're finally bringing in money from working with Alex. I've got a job. We don't need this place." He shrugged, throwing up his hands. "We could live at your place until we can get our own place." He paused, looking at Mickey, who had an eyebrow raised. "I mean, if you're okay with that."

Mickey hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. "Of course, I'm okay with having our place, but you love it here. We can keep that option open, but let's see if we can keep this place first."

Ian huffed, sitting next to Mickey. "I guess."

The next morning they all came downstairs to find Sammi's fucked up kid standing in the living room.

"Holy Shit," Fiona muttered.

Mickey laughed and walked away when that fat fuck waved. "Hey, Aunt Fiona."

He smiled when Ian pressed a small kiss to his lips and wished him well at work. As he slipped out the back door, he heard Fiona agreeing to take the kid in.

When he walked into the garage, Alex was bent over a car. He slammed his bag down, startling her.

"Jesus fuck, Mick!" She yelled, standing up, whipping her hands.

He scoffed. "What did I tell you about calling me that?"

"Okay, Mikhailo." She smiled.

"Fuck off!" he yelled. "Let's just get to fucking work."

She laughed, throwing a towel at him. They both leaned over the car getting to work. Later in the day, after he had dropped a wrench in the car, she yelled at him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Mickey sighed, wiping down his hands. "It's none of your fucking business."

"Bull shit. You work for me. If you can't fucking work, I can't get fucking money. So," She paused, hoping he would start talking. "So, start talking or all bust your face with the wrench." She tossed up the wrench looking at him.

"You know, Ian?"

"Yeah, your boyfriend or whatever." She smiled when he flipped her off.

"His family is losing their house." He tapped out a cigarette, lighting it. "They have a chance to keep it. They have to buy it back at auction. It's a shit ton of money, and it's still not guaranteed that they will be able to outbid at the auction."

"Could be worse."

"Fucking how?" Alex laughed.

"Look, just let me know when the auction is, and I will make sure they get the house." He took a deep drag of his smoke, unsure if she was serious. "I will handle it. You get back to fucking work."

Later that night, they all took their seats around the room where they were actioning off the house. He scowled when he saw Alex and ten other people dressed like she was. They were all around the room watching everyone but the Gallaghers. The bidding started fast, making them nervous. When Fiona bid 60 grand, he saw Alex nod, and all the people with her moved. He saw one man go to put his hand up to outbid, but it was grabbed in a vise grip. The family looked around, noticing they weren't letting anyone bid.

"60 thousand going once. 60 thousand going twice. You don't want to miss it. 60 thousand last call. Sold!"

The entire family stood up and cheered. They couldn't believe it. They bought the house. Mickey looked back to Alex, who was smiling. She practically skipped over to them.

"Hey! Mick!" He groaned as Ian laughed.

Ian held out his hand to shake her's. "You must be Alex."

She looked at his hand and frowned. She looked at her own hands and frowned. "Sorry, I don't shake hands." She quickly shook her head then smiled. "You must be Ian!" she looked around the emptying room. "I was worried I didn't bring enough people, but I guess it worked out." She rocked back on her heels with a bright smile.

Ian gave her a small smile, remembering that Mickey said she didn't like touch. "Thank you."

"Ahh. I couldn't put little mousey's boy toy on the street."

"Mousey?!" Mickey yelled, "What the fuck?"

Ian laughed, clapping him on the back. "Mickey Mouse."

Mickey wanted to be mad, but his rage died down when he saw the bright smile on Ian's face. Alex gave him a knowing look, so he flipped her off.

The weeks seemed to fly by. Ian was finally called back and offered a job as an EMT. Mickey could barely keep up with Gallagher's drama. He knew The little redhead was living with some lesbian on her deathbed. He was pretty sure Carl was an Arms dealer, and Fiona was dating the heroin addict. Mickey still wasn't sure if it was his place to say anything. He'd ask Ian about it later. The giant and Vee had some Asain kids living with them. Lip had that shit going on that professor. Sometimes all the drama made him miss the old life. By the time he presumably died, Lip lived with his baby mama, Debs and Frannie lived with Sandy. The only people living in the house were him, Ian, Liam, and Carl.

Mickey jumped when the front door slammed open, and Carl stumbled in. Mickey could see that he was distressed.

"Hey, what's with all that fucking noise," Mickey asked him.

"He fucking killed him." Carl collapsed on the couch. "A fucking kid."

"Woah, What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Nick, he killed that fucking kid over a bike." Carl took off his chain and threw it. "We used to still bikes all the time. There was brain fucking everywhere. He bashed his head in with a hammer, man."

Mickey took a seat on the coffee table across from the couch. "Calm down, alright. Start at the beginning. Tell me what happened."

"Some kid stole nick's bike. He broke into his house and bashed his head in with a fucking hammer. With a fucking hammer, Mick. I can't do this anymore."

"So, you want out?"

"Yeah, but how? G-Dog will fucking kill me."

Mickey laughed. "You're still working for that dumb fuck? He owes me for some coke. I'll deal with it." Mickey stood slapping him in the back of the head. "Fix your fucking hair."

Mickey didn't know how it happened, but they were getting dressed for Fiona's wedding. He didn't know how it happened, but he never got a chance to talk to Ian that Sean was still using. He wasn't sure if it was his place to say anything, and she might even know. After all the drinking, coke, and jail, that might be okay with Fiona, but Mickey didn't know.

He still couldn't believe Debbie had given birth on the couch. That little shit had cried for weeks. She was a cute little shit, though. Seeing her, though, reminded him of the other little one in his life. Svetlana had asked for a divorce months ago. He, of course, gladly gave it to her. Ian was sad for a few days after moving across the country with Yev, but he got over it. Mickey didn't hate the kid, and he was glad he was safe, but he was glad he didn't have the responsibility anymore. He still made sure to send Svet some money each week to make sure they were okay, but they didn't have to talk.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Ian drug Lip out of the bathroom with a frown. He loved the way Ian looked in the suit. He stood next to Lip with a smile on his face, ready for the wedding to start. Ian looked at Mickey with a bright smile when Fiona walked in. It was a small ceremony, and the priest told everyone not in the wedding party to have a seat. Ian leaned over to give a small kiss to Mickey when his eyes went wide. Mickey had to catch him because his knees seemingly gave out.

"Shit." He said, leaning into Mickey.

"You okay?" Mickey whispered.

"Holy fuck Mick." Ian was starting to hyperventilate. "What the fuck is going on?" Ian looked around, confused. "This is about to go to shit." He looked back at Mickey. "Frank is going to ruin it."

"Who is giving the bride away?" The pastor asked.

Just then, Frank came in yelling. "I am. Father. Here I am. Father of the bride."

"Frank!" Fiona complained.

"Where do you want me, Padre?" Frank asked, pulling off his coat.

"No. absolutely not."

Lip, Ian, and Mickey grabbed Frank. "Frank, Come on. Get out of here." Lip said.

"Hey, I'm your Father. I have a right." Frank pulled away, talking to them all. "Stop. I have a duty! To walk my daughter down the aisle, to give her away."

"Jesus, are you high?" Fiona asked. Of course, he was, he was Frank.

Frank looked her up and down. "Wow. Yes, I am, actually. But that's beside the point."

Kev stepped between them, hoping to calm the situation. "Come one, Frank. Let's go."

Sean cut in. "No one wants you here, Frank. Just go."

That seemed to set Frank off. "I'm your Father. I may not have always been a great one, but I'm still your Father, and I am going to walk you down that fucking aisle."

"Do we have a problem?" The pastor asked.

"No, no, we don't," Sean said. "Go, Frank. You're not wanted here."

"Why, sean? Why am I not wanted here?" Frank turned, looking at him. "Am I a disappointment?" He stepped closer. "Have I disappointed you, Sean?"

Sean shook his head, not being intimidated. "No. It's because you're a massive fuck-up, who makes everyone around you miserable every chance you get."

"Well, no one's perfect, Sean. Ain't that right?" Frank smiled, and it made everyone uneasy.

Ian looked at Mickey and whispered. "I'm glad you're here." Mickey huffed. Now was not the time for that, but Ian looked sad.

"I don't want you here." Fiona was fed up with it all.

"Oh! My loving Family!" Frank yelled. "So, judgemental, all without faults."

Fiona grabbed his arm. "Please. Please, Frank. This is my wedding day. Please don't fuck it up."

"We had fun planning for the wedding, Didn't we?" He laughed. "I love you, Fiona, my little girl. I always accepted you for who you are, with all of your faults." He looked around the room at his other children. "Accepted all of you for who you are, even when you couldn't find a place in your heart to accept me! For who I am!" He was pointing wildly around the room. "We're human. We make mistakes. Have faults. Lip's drinking his breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Ian is a bipolar queer with a thug boyfriend. Deb's 15 with a baby on her hip! And Carl thinks he's a brother with a foxy girlfriend. And Fiona, My beautiful Fiona, you've let so many men drive up that freeway between your legs you're going to have to put an exit sign on your vagina. And now you're marrying Sean." He motioned towards Sean. "Sean! Yea, I know you, Seany boy. It takes a dope fiend to know a dope fiend, and you are world-class. I went by your business last night late when nobody was there, and I found some things. Maybe, we should go back there, you and your bride to be, and show her the little box you hide under the invoices. The bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. You know, with the needles, and the spoon, the rubber tubbing, and the little baggies with brown powder." Frank pulled one out.

That was enough for Mickey. They had heard enough, so he punched frank in the jaw, dropping him to the floor. He looked back at Ian, who had a big, sad smile on his face.

Ian stepped close to him, grabbing his arm. "Can we go talk somewhere?"

Mickey looked at him, tilting his head. "Yeah, what's up, tough guy?"

Ian looked around. "No… I.." he looked around again. Mickey could see him shaking.

He stepped closer, grabbing Ian's arm. "You okay?"

Ian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He slammed himself into Mickey and grabbed his head. His tongue invaded Mickey's mouth. Ian backed him up until he had Mickey pressed to the wall and boxed him in. "Fuck Mick." The kiss became softer. Ian tasted him, sucking on his tongue. Mickey dropped his head back and looked Ian in the eyes, seeing the sheen of tears.

"Ian?"

"You're not supposed to be here," Ian whispered, pressing their foreheads together.

"Hey." Mickey cupped his face. "What are you talking about?"

Ian shook his head. "You'd never believe me."

Mickey laughed. "What?" He looked at Ian, finally getting it. "What, really? You too?"

Ian backed up. "What?"

"It happened to you too? You've already done this?"

Ian cupped his face bringing their lips together again. "I remember both now. I can remember everything you changed, with prison and Sammi."

"Why did it happen a year apart? An entire year?"

Ian looked away, embarrassed. "Exactly a year." He took a deep breath. "It was the anniversary."

Lip walked through the door calling for them. "We're getting rid of Frank. Quit fucking and come on."

They dropped Frank in the river. Ian made sure the punch him a few times, hoping to lessen his chances of surviving.

As they were driving home, Ian saw Terry Milkovich walking into the Alibi. Ian closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Stop the car," Ian told Lip.

Mickey looked at him confused but ready to follow. "What are you doing?"

"We'll talk about it later. I'll meet you at home." Ian hopped out of the car and started jogging back to the bar. Lip took off without question.

Ian walked into the bar seeing Terry playing pool. He sat at the bar, and Kate handed him a beer. He sat there for a good hour before Terry started to leave.

He followed him out the door at a distance. After a few blocks, Ian looked around, making sure there was no one around. He watched Terry stumble up the steps. He scaled the house and climbed through what would be Mickey's room. Ian smiled, noticing it was the same as the last time he saw it. He opened the drawer of the dresser seeing the weapons. He slid grabbed a knife, squeezing it tightly. He didn't want it to be quick. He wanted Terry Milkovich to suffer. He took a deep death gathering his courage.

He slowly crept out of the room, seeing Terry sitting on the couch watching crappy TV. He gripped the knife tightly and eased up behind the sofa. He quickly raised the knife and plunged it into the junction of Terry's neck and shoulder. He yanked the knife out and walked around the couch so Terry could see his face.

Ian's face and chest were soaked in blood from the spray. Terry didn't even try and get up; he gurgled, choking on his own blood.

"This is for Mickey and Mandy, you good for nothing cunt."

He watched the life dim from Terry's eyes with a smile. Fuck Terry Milkovich.

Ian looked around, noticing the blood had soaked in the couch and pooled in Terry's lap. Ian briskly walked by, booking it out the back. He took off running, hoping no one would see him in the cover of night. He hoped the fence of the baseball fields and sat down heavily in the dugouts. He was shaking. The adrenaline and rage had worn off, leaving him fearful. He just hoped Mickey would understand. He reached into his pocket and slid out his phone. He took a calming breath and called Mickey.

He answered in a yell. "It's been hours, man. Where the fuck are you?"

"I'm, uh, at the dugouts. I need you to come, but I need you to bring some stuff."

"Fuck, okay. Tell me what you need." Ian thought he could hear how distressed he was.

"I need a black trash bag, bleach, baby wipes-bring, and entire box-,some alcohol- rubbing or vodka is fine-, a towel and a change of clothes. And, uh, don't forget some shoes."

"Fuck." Mickey whispered.

"And some weed would be nice."

"Don't fucking move, Ian. I am on the way."

The line disconnected, leaving Ian in silence. He could feel the tears streaming down his face and the sobs catching in his throat, but he couldn't hear it. The silence was heavy and crushing. He didn't know how long he sat there, but he jumped when Mickey grabbed his face. Mickey gripped his chin, making sure they had eye contact before speaking.

"Let’s get you cleaned up, big guy.”

“Sorry,” Ian whispered. “Let me get these clothes off first.”

Mickey was watching for anything that would explain what happened. “Was it a fight?”

Ian looked at him with sad eyes. Mickey thought they looked very similar to when Ian tried to break up with him. “No.” Ian swallowed. He hoped this didn’t ruin them. “I killed.. um. Shit.” Ian tried to calm himself. “Do you remember what happened a year ago? In the future or whatever?”

Mickey handed him the trash bag for his clothes. “I was walking to the EL for our date. I was shot.”

“Yeah. You were shot and left there for dead. You died in the hospital a few hours later, but do you remember who shot you? Did you see them?”

Mickey jerked back. “You killed the person who shot me?” Ian nodded. “Who?”

“Terry Milkovich,” Ian whispered.

They stood in silence, watching each other. Mickey slowly reached his hand out a cupped Ian’s bloody cheek. He pulled him down for a soft kiss before pressing their foreheads together. “You killed Dad.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a statement, but Ian nodded anyway. “After everything, I couldn’t let him live. Especially if he tried to kill you again, or Mandy.”

Mickey’s entire body went rigid. “Mandy?”

“She came back to help out after you died. She was taking care of me. I don’t think he knew she would stand between us. He shot her just a few feet from our bed.” Ian backed away, looking out over the fields. “I couldn’t defend myself. It was my fault. All of it was.”

“You were in bed? Was it an episode? Why though? Why kill her?”

“I wish I knew? I’m sorry, Mick.”

“Quit fucking saying that!” He yelled, making Ian flinch. “Stop saying your fucking sorry. It’s not your fault.”

Ian silently took off all his clothes, putting them in the back. He used the baby wipes to scrub his entire body, including under his nails. He was wiping himself with the vodka when Mickey spoke again.

“How long after I died was that?”

“Twelve days.”

“So, he didn’t kill you then?”

Ian made sure everything was in the trash bag before he poured in the bleach and sealed it up. He put on his clean clothes and ran his shaking hand through his hair; he looked back at Mickey and sighed. “He didn’t kill me. A lot of bad shit happened, but that would have been easy. I wish that he would have killed me. I wish I didn’t come home from your funeral and crawl in our bed and not move. I wish my family had stuck around instead of leaving when Mandy asked them to. I wish you hadn’t died in the first place.”

Ian was sobbing again. He fell to his knees in the dirt, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s waist. He buried his face in Mickey’s belly and screamed, making Mickey crumble. He slid down until he was face to face with Ian again. “Tell me.” He whispered. “Tell me everything.”

“Can we go home first? Can we lay in our bed under the covers?”

“Yeah, let’s get rid of this stuff, then go home.”

Ian hiccuped the entire way home. They dropped the bag into a dumpster a few blocks away and set it on fire with the rest of the vodka.

Once home, Ian showered thoroughly and climbed in to be with Mickey. They were lying face to face a few inches apart, with the blanket pulled over their heads. Mickey grabbed Ian’s hand, holding it between both of his. 

“What happened after Mandy died?”

Ian closed his eyes, trying to hold back the tears. “I wasn’t in a good place. I’m ashamed of what happened, but I couldn’t move. I was trying to die. Mandy had been able to get me to eat until the tenth day...I think that was when I realized you weren’t coming back.” Ian opened his eyes. His green focused on Mickey’s blue. “I layer there staring at her body. I couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. I saw Terry come in, shoot her, then leave.”

“So you had an episode? Were you taking your meds?”

Ian shook his head no. “I couldn’t. I layer there until Lip came to check on us.” He paused because it was hard to admit. “I layer there withering away looking at her body for two days.”

“Fuck.” Mickey squeezed Ian’s hand hard.

“Lip had me committed. I was there for nine months. Iggy visited me a lot. He told me what Terry did to you. After a while, he stopped coming by. Debbie told me he killed Terry and was in prison. When I got out, I went to see him. I told him what I was going to do. He was the only one who knew.”

“Iggy always liked you.”

Ian smiled. “I did something bad. I went to the cemetery where you were buried. I had bought a gun from Colin.”

“What did you do?”

“I ended up here.”

“Where was your family? Why was no one taking care of you?”

“Lip drank himself to death. It happened about three months into my commitment. Carl tried to cover up for Iggy; he was beaten to death in prison. I think Debs took Frannie and ran. I don’t blame her; it all went to shit. I think Liam was out with Frank when I died.”

“Holy fuck.”

“I can’t live without you. You always said you probably loved me more than I loved you, but you were wrong. I can’t breathe without you. I don’t exist without you.”

Mickey shuffled closer, pressing their bodies together. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey, clutching him to his chest. “Promise?”

“I fucking promise, now go to sleep.”


End file.
